The Birth of Innocence
by becca85
Summary: Carol Anne's birth.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I first wrote this story back around Halloween as I had just watched Poltergeist as part of my 31 days of horror. I was inspired to write this story when I seized upon a conversation within the movie and thus it was born: "One of your children was born in your house?" "Carol Anne." With the holidays and the fact that there initially was no Poltergeist category on FF, the story was placed on hold for posting until now. Not to mention, I've been in a writing slump for the last couple of months, since I started this story. I have not started on the next chapter just yet, but I have some ideas in mind for how it will go, so it may be a while before I get the next chapter up. I don't intend on this being a very long story; just a couple of chapters.  
One last note-this first chapter may seem to jump around a bit, but it is intentional. Each section (except for the first) was written in order to end on the same note for each character. They start at different times, but end at the same time. A better explanation will follow the story...**

**DISCLAIMER: ****I do not own any of the characters or ideas created by Tobe Hooper. I borrowed them for the entertainment and amusement of my audience.**

**SUMMARY: Carol Anne's birth.**

**GENRE: Horror**

**RATING: PG-13 **

**DATE: October 26, 2010**

**::~*~::**

Diane ran her hand over her bulging stomach as she winced in pain. She grabbed the edge of the counter and braced herself as the pain slowly subsided. She started breathing easily again and her eyes swept across the watch face on her wrist. _Geez, only ten minutes since the last one?_

She had no doubt that she was starting the early stages of labor, but she actually felt no alarm, no desperate need to speed away recklessly to the hospital. She had already birthed two children who had taken their own sweet time in arriving, so she figured she had several hours more before she need be concerned with the situation. That was more than enough time for Steven to finish up his work day and come home at his own pace. Then after dinner, she would surprise him with their impending arrival and they would go to the hospital for the birth of their third child and everything would happen according to her plan.

Now that the contraction had passed, Diane returned to the washing of the dishes. It didn't take her long to finish with the dirty dishes from the earlier meals of the day and, once complete, she turned her attention to the kitchen and adjoining dining room, looking for the next chore. The shock of her daughter blasting through the kitchen door, slamming it all the way open to hit the wall behind it, almost pushed her into labor right then. In fact, Dana didn't even come into the house; all Diane saw was a backpack flying thru the air before the door slammed shut again and she heard her daughter's fading voice shouting that she would be back around dinnertime. She watched with annoyance as the backpack skidded across the floor to come to a stop in the hallway, daring anyone to try and step over it without falling flat on their face. _If Robbie wakes up, I swear I'll ground her until the end of time_. Unfortunately, mental threats were completely useless, and so she waited with baited breath to hear the sounds of a toddler in distress. Surprisingly, none came.

Diane sighed in joyful relief. Robbie was still napping and Dana was now out with friends. That finally left some time to enjoy the quiet solitude of the afternoon before she had to start preparing dinner. She staggered up the stairs, swaying dangerously to compensate for her swollen midsection and it was only after much effort that she gained the landing. She stood still for several seconds, in order to catch her breath. On her way to the master bedroom, she cracked open the door to Robbie's room. She smiled in amusement as she watched his small chest rise and fall with the breath of slumber. What amused her the most was that he had maneuvered himself into a complicated sitting position with his back on the bed and his little legs sticking straight up in the air against the headboard. Chuckling softly, she slid the door closed and turned to enter her bedroom.

**::~*~::**

Robbie stood precariously on his bed and gazed out of the window. He had woken up sometime before, but he hadn't made a sound to alert his mother. He stayed on the bed and listened to the whispers in his ears. More than once, he had looked around, searching for the source of the whispers, but he had found none. He was alone in the room.

It wasn't just one voice; it was many. They were all whispering in his ear, telling him to be a good boy, to not disturb his mommy who was resting, to eat all of his food and other typical bits of advice for toddlers. Any mother would have been astounded if they had observed him just then. It was universally known that most toddlers rarely did what they were told, but Robbie stayed just as calm and just as quiet, as if he were still sleeping.

Then the instructions changed. _Robbie. Robbie. Stand up, Robbie. Robbie, stand up._ He did what he had been asked to. He rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself up. It took a few tries as the bed was not the most stable thing to stand on, but finally he did it. He swayed on his feet, even coming dangerously close to falling completely off the bed.

_Go to the window, Robbie. Look out the window. Look at the tree, Robbie. Robbie, do you see the tree?_ The whispers seemed to turn more urgent. Encouraging him onward, they sounded more insistent, but to the ears of little Robbie, there was no difference in the beckoning voices. He was enchanted by the sounds that he could not locate. The lines between fantasy and reality that seem so clear for adults, were quite blurred for Robbie. To his perception, the disembodied voices were as real to him as the teddy bear he tripped over on his way to the window.

Holding himself up with his small hands placed firmly on the glass, he pressed his face against the window, in order to see the tree that grew ominously just outside. Even at three years old, Robbie was terrified of the tree. It's many twisting branches reached out towards the house as if in search of a way in. The voices told him to keep watching the tree and he could not pull himself away. His young mind did not associate the rising hairs on his arms and the back of his neck with the terror welling up inside of him. His heart beat frantically in his chest, his little lungs filled and collapsed with the air he was breathing heavily, and his eyes were wide open, glued to the tree.

A sudden powerful gust of wind hit the tree with tremendous force and caused a large branch to slam against the side of the house. The suddenness of the action, and the loudness of the sound startled Robbie so much that he fell backwards, tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. The impact with the floor stunned him for a moment, but it was not long before he was crying and pleading for his mother to come save him as he pounded his small fists on the back of the door. Unfortunately, his screams were drowned out by those coming from the next room.

**::~*~::**

Steven groaned at the mountain of paperwork that greeted him when he walked through the door of his office. His wife was due to go into labor any day now and he had been under the impression that Mr. Teague was going to funnel off paperwork to some of the other associates in an effort to keep Steven free enough to leave at a moment's notice should the call come. The pile on his desk was definitely not something he had anticipated. He was saved the trip to Mr. Teague's office by his appearance at Steven's door.

"I'm really sorry about this, Steve, but Mark's daughter fell in the schoolyard and broke her arm, so he had to leave suddenly. I hate to do this to you, but could you stay just a little later and get the forms done. It's for the Formby contract, which, if I may flatter you, was an absolutely brilliant deal you worked. Their insurance company is just jumping all over my back about it. It seems they want to move in sooner than we had expected. Of course, if you get news about your wife and have to leave, I'll understand, but it would mean a lot to me if you could finish that up tonight." Mr. Teague barely took a breath during his obviously rehearsed speech and his monotonous tone of voice almost put Steven into a stupor. Mr Teague turned and walked back to his office when he was done speaking, not even waiting to hear Steven's response. Steven, on the other hand, had opened and closed his mouth numerous times like a goldfish in his effort to respond to this request, but Mr. Teague had continued on and on. Instead of trailing after Mr. Teague and reminding him of how much revenue Steven brought in all on his own and that a bargain was a bargain, he looked at his watch. Four o'clock. By all rights, he should be walking out of the door in an hour. He glanced at the paperwork, back at the watch and then back at the paperwork. _I can do this. It won't take me much longer than an hour._ Tossing his suit jacket onto one of the spare chairs in his office, he sat down and grabbed the first paper off of the top.

Six o'clock came and just barely went by the time Steven finished filling everything out and organizing all the forms according to the various individuals and agencies they had to be filed with. Teague had come in at five-thirty on his way out and told Steven to just leave the rest for the morning. He had declined, saying that he was so close to finishing. Steven knew that Diane wasn't going to be happy at holding dinner a little longer in order for him to get home, especially with the kids. He had even tried to call her to let her know that he was going to be a few minutes late and to feed the kids so they wouldn't be cranky with her, but the phone had just rang and rang. He silently cursed the phone company for the issues his house was having with the telephone service. The answering machine had had to be disconnected due to some faulty circuit boards, or some such thing within the device itself—Steven really didn't know all that technical stuff. Hanging up the phone, he had worked faster so that he wouldn't keep his family waiting too long for him.

Tossing the files onto Teague's desk, he grabbed his jacket and dashed out the door. It was only ten minutes after six and he was only five minutes from home. He made sure the office was locked behind him and then, throwing his jacket onto the passenger seat, he jumped into his car and sped out of the lot.

Pulling onto his street and listening intently to the news radio, Steven was surprised to see his next door neighbors, the Tuthills, standing worriedly at the hedge that separated his house from theirs. The wife was wringing her hands nervously and glancing fearfully up at the Freeling house while the husband seemed to be confused about what to do to comfort his wife. Steven could see the Tuthill children peering anxiously through the front windows of their house. He rolled his eyes in annoyance. He never would have pegged them as nosy neighbors, poking around in other peoples' affairs, but he realized that you never could tell about some people. Well, he would set them straight and tell them to mind their own business. He turned off the car and started to open the door, when the source of his neighbors' worry became all too evident. His wife's screams tore through him to the very core and all thoughts fled his mind, leaving only the primal instinct of protecting his family fueling his burst of speed up the walkway and through the front door.

**::~*~::**

Dana laughed at the off-colored joke that Bobby had just made. Normally such a joke would never have elicited even a smile out of her, but the effects of the marijuana were weaving their mystical magic over her, and her clouded thoughts found the joke thoroughly entertaining. She took another long drag from the joint, coughing just a little as the sweet smoke filled her lungs and she passed the joint on. _Mom would totally kill me if she saw me now!_ but the thought just caused her to start giggling uncontrollably. Her friends stared at her as though she had lost her mind, which wasn't very far off, but her laughter was quite contagious and soon everyone was laughing uncontrollably, for no other reason than for the inability to stop.

Dana knew that her parents indulged in the very act she was presently enjoying. She had found a small box in one of her mother's dresser drawers sometime before. She had snuck a little out to share with her friends, as they had always rolled a few for her. It hadn't taken long for the addiction to sink its claws into her. At eleven years old, she had already been smoking for six months. She had no idea how her parents never caught her, especially with the pungent odor that accompanied the act, but so far she had been very lucky.

Noting the time, she jumped to her feet. "Hey, Jimmy, I'm gonna use your shower, 'kay?" It was one of the reasons her parents never detected the incriminating smell about her person when coming home. She had smuggled a pair of pants and a sweatshirt out of the house some weeks before and just kept them at Jimmy's house for these smoking activities. The little group always smoked at Jimmy's house because his mother had split several years before and his father didn't care much what his son did. It was the perfect place to gather. Dana would change into the smoke infested clothes, keeping her regular clothes in another room where the smell wouldn't reach and then she would hang out. When she was done, she would shower, change into her regular clothes, hang around with her friends outside long enough to let her hair dry completely and then go home like nothing had happened. For an eleven-year-old, she was quite thrilled that she had come up with this fool proof plan.

Dana sighed with obvious satisfaction as she stood under the scalding hot water of the shower head. While the prospect of another sibling had, at first, irritated her to no end, she quickly warmed up to the announcement. Her parents had become so preoccupied with the happy news and all it entailed, Dana soon found herself being allowed a ton of privacy. She used it to her advantage, but she recognized that as soon as her new baby brother or sister was born and the house returned to a semblance of normality, her parents would be back to their old selves and she would, once again, be under their thumb. It was only a matter of days now.

Dana scrubbed her hair with the only thing she could find within reach, a bar of soap. It wasn't the best option, but it would do for her. To help the buzz wear off, she switched the water over to ice cold and had to fight the urge to shriek in alarm with the shock. She buried her face under the flow of water and let the cold shock her back to full awareness. While it didn't achieve the sought for effect, it helped immensely. Rinsing off, she hopped out and dried off, pulling on her clean jeans and tee shirt.

She found her friends sitting on the curb in front of the house, critiquing a substitute teacher they had all had for English that day. The teacher was from a foreign country and her way of handling classes was a bit different than what they were used to, so they were all cracking jokes about her.

That sat outside doing absolutely nothing, but finding some pleasure in it, until the sky grew dark and the streetlamps lit up. It didn't occur to Dana until the streetlight over her head illuminated, that she was drastically late for dinner. Grabbing Bobby's wrist, she saw the time. "Oh, no! My mom is going to _kill_ me!" She jumped up and hollered good night at her friends as she bolted up the street and around the corner. It was a good sprint from her house to Jimmy's and she knew it would only be another minute or two before she reached her front door. How could she have been so stupid? It was only when she missed curfew that her parents paid particular attention to her return and that was the most probable scenario that could bust her.

Skidding around the last corner, her eyes lit upon her house further up the street. She had already formulated a plan on the way home. She would sneak into her bedroom through the window and pretend like she had been there for a while. The only thing that would ruin her plan was if her parents had checked her room recently and found her not there, but Dana didn't worry about that. Her mom was so close to popping and her dad would cater to his wife's every need in these final few days. She doubted they would even question her if she chose to walk right in the front door, but she didn't want to test that theory.

Everything went right out of her mind when she heard the screams coming from her house.

**::~*~::**

**The timeline was written along the lines of being around 2:30PM when Diane's ended; Robbie's started around 5:30PM; Steven's started around 4PM; and Dana's started around 3-3:30PM. As written in Steven's section, he arrived home shortly after 6PM, probably between 6:15-6:20PM and his wife's screaming had gone on long enough to draw the neighbors out of their home. As the screaming was the conclusion of each section (except for Diane's), each section ended roundabouts 6PM. The next chapter will be conducted more along the lines of a traditional viewpoint. Thanks for reading and be sure to add it to your alerts if you want to be informed when the next chapter is up.**


	2. Chapter 2

She had never been in such excruciating pain before. She had already birthed two children, naturally, and the pain she was presently feeling was nothing compared to either of those two events, even combined. In her present state, she did the only thing she could do. She screamed.

Not particularly caring who heard, she continued screaming in agony. She needed help and the only other person in the house was too young to do anything.

Flashes of white blinded her to her surroundings. The soft mattress beneath her back might as well have been a bed of nails for all the good it did her. She felt as though something was ripping apart her abdomen from the inside and for a fleeting moment, she wondered what on earth she was giving birth to. It didn't feel like anything she had ever heard about before.

As she clutched her bulging stomach in an effort to stop the pain, she prayed that Steven would be home soon. Gritting her teeth in an effort to keep from screaming out, her eyes flew to the clock on the bedside table. Another wave of pain ripped through her, but she had deciphered the hands of the clock in a few seconds of lucidity and realized that Steven should have been home already.

_Where is he?_ she moaned in her mind. As if convinced of the power of telepathy, she screamed his name in her mind, willing him to come relieve the torture. She had managed to keep the tears at bay thusfar, but as she gasped for breath to scream again, she heard Robbie crying in the next room. Her child needed her help, but she was powerless to do anything. Grasping for whatever strength she could find, she managed to wiggle her way to the edge of the bed. Sliding her leg off of the bed, she placed it on the floor, but she was never given the chance to rise.

What felt like an electric current shot up her leg from the carpeted floor, causing her to cry out once more as it made its way up to her belly. Everything evaporated from her mind except for the possible danger this shock, whatever it was, could pose to her unborn child. She wrapped her arms even more tightly around her stomach, but she had no idea how to fight against something within her. Feeling incredibly helpless to help, not one, but two of her children, the tears spilled forth unchecked. She had no idea where Steven was, but she had the distinct feeling that if she didn't get help soon, she was in grave danger of not surviving the ordeal. Hoping against hope that the neighbors, the Tuthills, could hear her, she started screaming again.

**::~*~::**

Even though he could hear his son's cries from behind his closed bedroom door, Steven ignored them as he burst into the master bedroom. His wife was curled up into the fetal position on the bed, eyes squeezed tightly shut and arms wrapped securely around her abdomen. Somewhere between his departure from the car and his entrance into the bedroom, her screams had abated and now she was merely moaning. Not sure if that was a good sign or bad, he cautiously approached the bedside. Stretching forth his hand, he gently touched her shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed.

Leaping back, he flattened himself against the wall, momentarily terrified, not by her words, but by her eyes. When she had opened them, he had looked into them—and saw something that shook him to the core. Instead of her warm, chocolate brown eyes, he had seen darkness, unimaginable darkness. Not even the whites of her eyes had been visible. It was like someone had injected black ink into them, completely obscuring any other color that was there.

Then there was her voice. He had been so shocked by her eyes, that the change in her voice had gone unheeded, but as he stood there, back flat against the wall, the terrible moment played over in his mind. Her voice had sounded deep, much too deep for her to have achieved, even in jest. His eyes fixed upon her, he hated to admit it but he was too scared to move to her side. In fact, he was too scared to do anything, even though he knew he should call for Dana or an ambulance or both. He should even check on Robbie, but he couldn't move from that spot, no matter how much his mind was screaming at him to do so. He slid down the wall, to sit on the floor, his eyes never leaving her face.

**::~*~::**

As if the lack of screams from his mother had calmed him somewhat, Robbie's cries had turned into whimpers as he slumped down to sit on the floor in his bedroom. His wide-eyed stare never left the window where the tree outside stood, waiting. Robbie knew it was waiting to get him and he knew if he turned away, it would smash through the window to snatch him out of his room. To a three-year-old, anything was possible. An adult would scoff at the thoughts that ran rampant through Robbie's mind, would seek to assure him that trees attacking people simply wasn't possible. Robbie would have paid no heed had they tried to convince him otherwise. He had seen what no one else had and no one could tell him it wasn't possible.

**::~*~::**

Steven was stuck in a stupor. He had almost gathered the courage to move to the telephone when Diane mumbled something unintelligible. Momentarily frozen in place, he fought an inner battle on whether to go back to her side or whether to call for help. _Where is Dana?_ He hadn't heard anything from her since he had arrived home and he was beginning to doubt that she was even in the house. _She should be here, helping her mother._ _None of this would have happened if she had been here._

Diane mumbled again and Steven was spurred into action as he finally caught her words. She was pleading for help. Rushing to her side, he cautiously reached forward to touch her shoulder again. Fully prepared to pull away at the faintest hint of the terror that had come over her before, he was relieved that she didn't scream at him and when she opened her eyes, he saw they were back to the familiar brown. _Maybe I imagined the whole thing?_ The thought was comforting and distracting at the same time. Pushing aside the frightening image, he gripped her hand tightly in his and held on. He winced in pain of his own as she tightened her grip on his hand, but relaxed it several seconds later. This kept up for a few minutes more before Diane spoke.

"I don't think we have time to make it to the hospital," she gasped as, what Steven had finally identified as a contraction, overtook her.

"I think we should try," he whispered in her ear. "Something's not right this time."

"No," she insisted. "I can't move."

"I'll carry you if I have to." He couldn't really say why, but he did not want this child born inside the house. He felt that everything that had happened in the last few minutes had been a bad omen for the birth and he wanted to get his wife out. He really didn't care if that meant going next door and delivering his child in the neighbors' bathtub.

Instead of replying, she screamed out in pain as she gripped his hand so hard, he felt she was in great danger of detaching it fully from his arm. Gasping in pain, he almost didn't hear the master bedroom door open quietly.

"What's happening?"

Steven jerked his eyes away from Diane's sweat-drenched face to see Dana standing in the door. She was holding Robbie in her arms, though a more accurate description would be that Robbie was clutching his sister as if in fear for his life. Steven couldn't blame him. Locked behind a closed door with his mother screaming in the next room—he wouldn't be surprised if Robbie had nightmares for months.

"Call an ambulance! Now!" he ordered, even as Diane's grip tightened once again. Robbie clutched at his sister even more, terrified by his father's voice. The two children fled the room to the downstairs where Steven could faintly hear Dana's hysterical voice as she called for help.

Diane screamed once again as she squeezed Steven's hand, but something was different about it. Turning his eyes back to her, he saw that she had rolled over to lay on her back and she was now, quite obviously, pushing. There was no more time and Steven felt it would sound incredibly selfish for him to ask her to hold on even for a few more minutes. Shouting down the stairs for Dana to come upstairs, he felt utterly inadequate for the whole situation. They should be having this baby in the hospital where people infinitely more knowledgeable than himself could be handling everything and all he had to do was offer encouragement to his wife while wiping her brow. He knew Hollywood was the last place he should be looking to for help, but it was all he really had.

Dana took far longer in coming upstairs than she should have, but before he could angrily ask her what took her so long, she said that she had run Robbie over next door so that he could be properly looked after while everything was happening over here. Sparing only a fraction of a thought for his little girl growing up so fast, he told her to bring hot water, clean towels and a pair of clean scissors quickly. He had no idea what half of that stuff was for, but he knew that they were always requested on those late night TV shows he watched with his wife.

When Dana returned, Steven grabbed one of the towels out of her hands and started mopping the sweat off Diane's face as she kept pushing. She seemed to have realized she was hurting Steven with her deathlike grips and had moved her hands to gripping the bedsheets which were rapidly being soiled beneath her. Her fingernails ripped through the sheets, but Steven had already given up any hope of salvaging the sheets.

She continued pushing, but, having been through this ordeal twice before, she coached her husband and daughter through what they were supposed to do between strained breaths. Steven felt his confidence waver. He had no doubt that Diane knew what she was talking about, but when he started to see the head of his unborn child, he started wondering how much longer until the ambulance arrived. When she instructed him to hold the head and help the baby out with her pushing, he nearly fainted.

Somewhere, in all the noise that was being created in the room, he thought he heard the sound of pounding from downstairs. Feeling relief at the arrival of the ambulance, he sent Dana to let them in. Diane kept pushing and he kept reassuring himself that it was only a matter of seconds before people who knew what they were doing could replace him. Seconds turned into minutes and still no one arrived in the room, not even Dana.

The tiny body was almost completely out and Steven felt tears stream down his face as he discovered the child was a girl. Almost faint from the exertion she had endured, Diane breathlessly told him to cut the cord with the scissors when the child was completely out. Even though he had seen the doctors do it twice before, the request thoroughly alarmed him. What if he cut it wrong?

Exhausted beyond belief, but conscious enough to feel the feet slipping out of her, she motioned for Steven to cut the cord. Even through her blurry vision, she saw him hesitate and she urged him again to do it.

With the utmost apprehension, he did as she asked, but was unsure what to do with the portion that was still connected inside of her body, but as she didn't offer any suggestions he figured he would leave it where it was until the ambulance got there. _Speaking of which..._ Wrapping his newborn daughter up in one of the many clean towels, he ignored the fact that she was still covered in blood, but it did strike his notice that she hadn't started screaming like babies were supposed to when born.

"Diane," he said quietly, "she didn't scream."

Diane had started falling into a semi-conscious state, but at her husband's words, she pushed the fatigue away as best she could. Struggling to prop herself up a little on her elbows, she forced her eyes to focus on him. "What?" her voiced reflected her appearance, groggy and semi-lucid. "Well, is she breathing? What color is she?"

Steven set his daughter on the bed and tried to figure out how to tell if everything was alright. Diane's focus seemed to have sharpened as she collapsed back against the pillows with a sigh of relief. "Her color is good and her chest is moving." Closing her eyes, all she wanted to do then was sleep.

Steven immediately honed in on what his wife had seen, wondering if he had been so overwhelmed with everything else that was going on, that he hadn't picked up on the fact that his daughter had in fact been fine the whole time. Picking her back up, he settled her in her mother's arms while he went downstairs to find out why the medics hadn't come upstairs.

**::~*~::**

Immediately he knew something was wrong when he reached the bottom step and found his older daughter curled up in a ball in the corner behind the door with her hands clamped tightly over her ears and her eyes squeezed shut.

"Dana!" he exclaimed, anger at being left alone upstairs welling up inside of him. His daughter jumped at the sound of his voice. "Why didn't you let them in?" He could see the red and white lights of the ambulance reflecting off of the walls as they shone brightly through the front window. He yanked the door open. Upon seeing the door opening, the medics that were standing on the front porch hesitated in shock before hurrying thru the door into the house. Seemingly surprised about something, they filed past Steven as he pointed them up the stairs to the master bedroom. Throwing suspicious looks over their shoulders, they disappeared from sight.

Dana was crying energetically, great heaving sobs, as she kept pointing to the door and window. "Daddy, I tried!" she sobbed. "The door! It wouldn't open! I tried, but it wouldn't open. I unlocked it, I did. I even tried the other doors, but none of them would open. The paramedics even followed me around the house, trying to break them down, but they wouldn't move. They even tried breaking the windows, but they wouldn't break. We tried. Really, we did."

He had stood there, in absolute shock and his first thought was that she was lying to him, but he knew she wouldn't claim the medics had tried to help if it was a bold-faced lie, especially one that could easily be verified with them himself. _That doesn't explain how the door opened so effortlessly at my own touch._

Glancing up the stairs, where he knew the medical crew was overseeing his wife, and then back at his daughter, his thoughts finally had a chance to process everything that had happened. Something was very wrong.

**::~*~::**

**A/N: I just want to point out, for the record, that I have never given birth, nor have I ever seen a live birth, in person, so I have no idea how accurate my portrayal was (probably not very), but it was the best I could do. Like Steven, all I had to go on were Hollywood portrayals. I hope you enjoyed this concluding chapter. I decided to leave it with a cliffhanger sentence, but nothing really happens until the events in the movie. My train of thought says that unusual things happen here and there, but the next truly terrifying events for the Freelings are the ones depicted in the film.**


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